


Couldn't Get Closer Than This

by meeokie



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, I don't want to ruin the romance with all my sex tags so thats it, Lance gets the presents he deserves, Lingerie, M/M, Polyamory, Valentine's Day, shklance - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 07:42:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17783342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meeokie/pseuds/meeokie
Summary: Lance's boyfriends have been holiday cock blocking him for a solid month. Despite how he tries to take the denial of his suggestions as best as he can, he can't help but feel a little down. At least he gets to collect at the end; Shiro and Keith have been planning something very special for a while and they've done their best to keep it a secret until now. <3





	Couldn't Get Closer Than This

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentine's Day! This is a little something I did for a server exchange~
> 
> Huge shout-out to my beta [ flyingisland ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flyingisland/works) for catching all of my horrible grammar mistakes. Please PLEASE go check out her work- she writes some of my favorite Voltron content SO GO READ IT PLEASE <3
> 
> As always, I like to link my writing to some sort of song so, here is where the title of the fic is from:
> 
>  
> 
> [ The Cure - The Lovecats ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0UlSPiDSbxQ)

“What about that place around the corner? We could walk, it’s not super romantic or anything but it’s something. I bet they won’t even be busy, not really a hot spot for holidays and…” With each passing second his voice trailed a little quieter. This wasn’t the first time he tried.

Lance had put in, what he considered, well over a normal amount of effort to get his boyfriends to agree on _something_ for the holiday, but nothing seemed to stick. He’d start off grand of course: restaurants they couldn’t afford, places that had been booked since last year. Realizing that wasn’t going to work, he plunged down on the ladder: a chain food location, maybe just dessert, how about a movie? Unfortunately, each time he brought it up, either alone with Shiro or Keith or when he cornered them together, they brushed him off.

_It’s too early to plan. That place is just too far. We all have work and Valentine’s Day is a Thursday. Let’s do something on the weekend? We’ll figure it out when it’s closer._

He’d heard it all and took each hit with the resolve of a much stronger-hearted person, offering a smile and a nod until he grew tired of trying. It wasn’t like they were _wrong_ or farfetched in every explanation of why it didn’t work out, but that small part of Lance still yearned for some sort of recognition of the day, even if small and unimportant.

Shiro couldn’t tell who was suffering the most in this situation. Each time Lance came to them he tried to be as gentle as possible to deny him, helping Keith when an immediate excuse didn’t pop into his boyfriend’s mind. Keith held his gaze better, face unreadable and Lance, the poor boy, could not tell they were both desperately trying to keep a secret from him.

It was important, however, perhaps more desperately this year considering how many they were rounding on, a substantial amount of time to be hand in hand as a set of three. If they could just hold it together a few more days, just soothe the small pouts and grumpy shuffles of mismatched socks across the apartment floor it would all be worth it.

They’d been planning this night for a month and a half, after all.

When it finally rolled over into the Monday before said holiday Lance had fallen silent, his most recent try on Sunday night resulting in a more firm denial of any plans. Shiro almost broke, almost let their secret slide out of his mouth but Keith had given him a death glare behind Lance’s head and pivoted the conversation away from him having to answer. Lance had sulked and mumbled something about a shower and that was that. He’d even refused his normal routine of casual touching before sleep until Keith forced his arms around that slim waist and locked him into a hugging position that was rare for him, the softness of the gesture hidden in the forcefulness that he used to achieve it.

As always, Lance fought hard for approximately thirty seconds before succumbing to intimacy he secretly coveted, pressing his face against Keith’s chest and complaining about mean boyfriends and the unfairness of the universe for putting a holiday in the middle of a work week.

“We’ll do something, I promise. We won’t forget, Lance, we know what it means to you.” Shiro had slid up from the other side, tucked his nose against the warmth of his boyfriend’s neck, and pressed a kiss there to seal his promise. Shiro could only hope he would hold on.

The melancholy Lance was exhibiting wasn’t unfamiliar, but the troubling part was the lack of noise. Out of the three of them, if something was disliked, Lance was the first to voice it. He was transparent in a way that could somehow be exhausting and relieving at the same time because, although grating and demanding, knowing exactly when and why something set a person off could be a blessing. It was less clear with Keith; he liked to stew on things and hide them and make his boyfriends rip them out into the open. And Shiro, demanding of himself to be the anchor, the eldest, the most mature; possibly the worst in handling his own emotional turmoil. If Lance was the one to yell it and Keith to hide it away, Shiro outright ignored his.

How they’ve managed this long, and for the most part, happy and complementary to each other, could be regarded as either an unsolved mystery or long forgotten extremely simple equation.

Either way, right now something was off and both Keith and Shiro could read the air well enough to know when Lance was truly down as the apartment is eerily silent. No humming, no need to yell across the space to tell him to turn off the TV if he wasn’t even in the same room to watch it, no clatter of dishes being washed. No anything. The silence was jarring and it made even Keith near crack because he couldn’t acknowledge the fact that he was dependent on what he’d become used to as his life now. That a quiet Lance was bothering him so much that he shoved Shiro into the bathroom and stared him down like he owed him lunch money.

“I can’t do this. I can’t watch him mope around anymore. I made a joke yesterday Shiro, about my _own_ hair and he didn’t even laugh! Barely a smile. He’s _dying_ , he won’t make it until tomorrow night. We can’t do this to him. I don’t think holding this secret is worth his pain at this point...can’t we just…” Keith huffed, his concern plastered across his face.

“I don’t know what we can give him without giving the whole thing away is the issue.” Shiro had leaned himself against the counter, arms crossed in front of him, knowing Keith was right but also knowing that if they said anything now the ruined surprise of it all wouldn’t be salvageable.

“What if I...something else? To get his mind off it? You know how he dwells when he has nothing to do, at least then he’ll be focused on a task.” Keith frowned at himself for a moment while Shiro regarded him before an idea came.

It wasn’t the best, hell, it wasn’t even really anything remotely convincible, but it was distracting and offered the promise of time spent together tomorrow under the guise of not celebrating.

 

_Happy Valentine’s Day baby,_

_I have a client booked late today, I’ll be home at 8_

_I’ll bring home pizza, and yes, I’ll get half pineapple and ham_

_xoxo_

_Shiro_

 

_Lance,_

_What Shiro said. Also, can you go to the store after work?_

_I’m making you pancakes Saturday morning but we are out of the stuff_

_I’ll be home probably before Shiro_

_ <3 Keith _

 

Shiro left first every morning, Keith trailing not that far behind but only sharing the shower once in a while, preferring to enjoy his alone time waking up. They could have texted Lance but they wanted him to find this: each letter handwritten on post-it notes he’d gotten them as stocking stuffers a month and a half ago, one lion shaped and the other a wolf. Both were stuck to the counter next to the coffeemaker and placed between was Lance’s favorite odd combination, a peanut butter Twix and a small box of Swedish Fish, the kind you’d buy at the dollar store and shove in your jacket pocket instead of getting it at the overpriced movie theater counter.

It would be another hour until he got up; Thursday’s just happened to be Lance’s shortest shift.

 

A text came to their group chat at 10:23 AM:

_jsyk, i ate those both for breakfast with my coffee. if im asleep when u get home its ur fault_

_Lance, you know that's basically the opposite of nutritious. Please eat a banana or something._

_shiro let him live its a holiday hes just celebrating_

_YEAH what keith said!!!! <3_

 

At the very least, the small distraction seemed to work; a heart in text meant their boyfriend was for the time being above moping status. Shiro and Keith had much bigger plans to remedy the rest of his mood later.

With surprises, the unfortunate thing was that sometimes you had to lie. Shiro, in particular, did not have a client later in the day and would be home far, far earlier than even Lance. Keith’s was less of a lie and more of a guess because he too had different plans and what he’d promised in his note depended simply on who got to the front door of the apartment first.

Shiro won, making Keith a liar now too, save for the single muddy word ‘probably’ in his note. None of the details mattered much; what was important now as they shoved into the front door was that there were three hours until Lance came home, maybe four if he’d actually taken Keith’s note seriously and went on a wild goose chase for pancake ingredients. Which, by the way, were actually shoved in the very back of the pantry behind stacks of Shiro’s healthy cereal that Lance would never, ever go near.

“This will be easier if we split up. You want the hallway or bedroom?” Shiro had more bags hefted over his shoulder than an average person should, some of the contents familiar to Keith and the rest a mystery; last minute shopping if he had to place a bet. 

“You’re better at the romance so...well, I guess all of it has to be like that, shit. Bedroom’s more important, you start there? Hallway shouldn’t take me long. I’ll come in and help.” Keith dumped his own bags on the floor, shucking his winter jacket off and helping Shiro place his down and sort through what needed to go where. His hand brushed over a delicate pink gift bag, nearly missing it but the glitter catching his gaze at the last moment.

“Wait, where’s this from?” Before Shiro could stop him, Keith pulled the small bag open and took one peek before raising an eyebrow back at his boyfriend. “You didn’t. You really think he’ll….”

“Maybe, if he wants to. I was planning on leaving it at the door, as a suggestion. I’m sure he’ll get all of this once everything's in place, but… you saw him eyeing it, he stared at this for so long and practically ran away when he saw we were watching.” Shiro’s cheeks were dusted with a light pink as he fiddled with the ties at the top. He’d kept his business face on when he’d marched through the store to purchase it, doing his best to think of everything else _but_ Lance wearing said item.

“Yeah, he’ll probably cry the second he gets in. I mean, like _good_ cry, happy cry, stop looking at me like that, come on we need to actually get this stuff ready. It needs to be perfect for him.”

Shiro often admired Keith’s determination, but when they’d added Lance into the mix, he got the supreme pleasure of watching that trait morph into something more delicate, more protective. Keith was the one who had this spark of an idea, to give back to their boyfriend for everything he did: for every night he set out their travel coffee mugs, for the shampoo he insisted on lathering into their hair, and especially for the soft murmurs before bed when they all collapsed together exhausted, Lance more often than not the last to drift to sleep with his fingers ghosting over the sore muscles of his boyfriends.

They were always busy, each of them working hard on their own careers, trying their best to make something of the time they did have together and it was always Lance, always smiling and encouraging and filling in those tiny cracks to keep the foundation strong. He deserved this and Shiro and Keith were adamant on delivering.

Keith had been right to trust that Lance would listen to him; the front door clicked open at 4:42 PM and it was only moments before that Shiro had remembered to swipe their shoes out of the hall and pretend like no one was home. The apartment filled with the sound of shuffling plastic bags and one small hushed ‘fuck’ as a box of something slipped out and hit the floor just as Lance shoved the door closed with the underside of his shoe. And then silence. Far more silence than was normal for someone like their boyfriend and both Keith and Shiro crowded as close as possible to the cracked bedroom door for any sign of life.

“... what.” Two steps and the distinct sound memory of waxy gift wrap bag shifting under someone’s fingers and a “What the fuck” but in the most gentle, disarming tone of voice possible.

Keith had done his best within the time limit. It still didn’t feel like _enough_ even with all of the planning and late night sneaking amazon orders over Lance’s shoulder so he couldn’t see if Shiro gave a thumbs up or down. He’d be the first to admit that decorating anything was missing from his resume but he’d _tried_ , just as much as Shiro did, and hopefully, that would show through.

The lights were off, the declining daylight poking through only the blinds that weren’t fully closed in the rest of the apartment’s windows. The hallway was bare from that, instead illuminated along the ceiling with a soft, pale glow accompanied by dangling bits of what looked like a mix of falling starlight and long, wintery icicles. How many times had Lance pointed out after holidays decorations, how good that color would look against the paint, how neat it would be to wrap around their bedpost?

They’d been listening, he realized, as he dared to step forward, gaze trailing to the floor where pink petals were scattered along the wood haphazardly. Groceries long forgotten, Lance reached to pick one up, the texture and lack of smell seeming strange until he realized they were fabric. Gift bag still clenched in one hand, he stood up to examine the only other thing that could fit in the small rectangular space; their catch-all table next to the coat rack for keys and wallets and whatever else. It looked different now, the tiny repetitive glow of false tea lights inside clear mason jars, the stems and petals of these flowers certainly not fake. That paled in comparison to what sat at the middle.

Last summer they’d managed a proper vacation. Nothing fancy, nothing incredibly expensive, just a long weekend in the mountains near a lake with everyone else. A shared cabin, memories of championing the local grocery store for supplies, the sand that was more like mud but they stayed on the small shore for hours anyway. Pidge had taken it, Allura had it framed. Shiro bought the nails and Keith leveled and placed it on the wall there. All three of them sitting in their swim shorts, backs to the camera, unaware the moment was being captured and unaware of how perfect it was with the distant trees and setting sun and reflective lake. And Lance in the middle, head turned slightly mid-laugh towards Keith and his palm resting against Shiro’s shoulder.

Silence again had them worried and someone, maybe Shiro, maybe Keith, pressed against the door just enough that it creaked. Just enough that Lance crumpled the edge of his gift and quickly wiped a tear away and wobbled out an emotional, uncertain, “S-Shiro? Keith?”

They’d planned this, but not in any direct way that helped with floundering in the moment. Both of them stepped away from the door like it would matter that Lance could tell someone was on the other side. It was a surprise, after all, and Keith and Shiro perhaps surprised themselves with the high level of nerves that demanded attention as they silently fought over where they should go, who should be where, or maybe if they should hide. Afterthoughts that didn’t matter much because Lance slowly pushed the bedroom door open, the trail of fake petals leading only to its threshold.

It would have been romantic, if Lance had focused on literally anything else in the bedroom other than what he chose.

“Are those your shoes? Did you really take them from the front door rack so I wouldn’t think you were home?” His fake sternness was easy to detect, given away by the tiny crack of a smile.

“Well,... did it work?” Shiro looked uncharacteristically nervous, standing awkwardly close the edge of their bed, fingers skirting over the lights they’d wound around the bottom of the wooden frame.

“Would have, if you hadn’t ruined it by peeking.” Keith huffed, shooting Shiro a half-hearted glare before turning his attention to the one that deserved it the most today. “So, uh… I know it’s not some fancy restaurant or whatever but we figured we could do this at least, for you.”

“Sorry for lying- we’ve been home some time now preparing. Oh, but… I’ll still get pizza, if you want... later. After you enjoy your present...s.” Shiro was trying his best to look everywhere _but_ at the pink package still clutched in Lance’s hands, hoping his boyfriend would take all of this as the present and not just the thin straps and lace that made up the contents of said bag.

“So let me get this straight.” Lance took the few small steps needed to come into the room, his eyes determined in a way that made even Keith falter and step back. “You, _both_ of you, denied me for almost a month whenever I requested anything for Valentine’s Day because you were secretly plotting _this_?” Lance’s hand shot out to showcase the entire bedroom, flower petals and probably discount Christmas lights carefully woven around every inch of the headboard that made sense.

He got simultaneous replies of “Yeah” and “Yup” from the both of them, Keith meeting his gaze proudly while Shiro had the audacity to look like a kicked puppy.

“And you secretly came home super early, tricked me into going to the store, and purposely lied via sticky note this morning, for this?” A moment of silence passed.

“Yeah, and that too.” Keith pointed at the forgotten gift bag, prompting Lance to raise an eyebrow at the attempt to derail his tirade. It worked, only because Lance was curious and maybe had some sort of almost-fetish for tearing into delicate gift wrap meant for him. He did just that, stopping short of pulling the item out; he could see enough from here and through the embarrassment, he realized exactly what it was and where it was from.

“That's… you don’t have to, not tonight or, ever if you don’t want but I saw you admiring it so…” Shiro, at this point, looked too sad for a man that had two boyfriends on Valentine’s Day.

“You did all of this for me.” A statement, not a question, soft and full of understanding and love. It was useless to stay mad, and it wasn’t even really the correct word for how Lance felt. Ticked off, perhaps, for the month-long cock-block of potential holiday plans but this was better than he could have asked for. It _was_ better because he didn’t ask for any of this and it was perfect right down to the specific favorite hue of pink in the petals, the lights he’d been whining about over and over since they put away the Christmas decorations but never actually got around to buying. The gift still held tightly in his hands, his yearning for its contents blooming from a guess that Keith and Shiro might enjoy seeing him wear it. 

He looked towards them both, each just waiting for the next moment, for Lance to forgive them or not, to flow into where this should all lead naturally or to end it now.

And really, it would be absurd to call this off because it was exactly what he wanted, even if it was a work night, even though it was Thursday and not Friday and they’d all be exhausted tomorrow at their jobs. It didn’t matter; they’d put in all this effort and thought to surprise the unsurprisable (according to Lance) and he’d never _not_ indulge such a thing, never not let him give his own thanks in his preferred way. This day wasn’t just for him, despite how his boyfriends were acting like it was.

“On the bed, both of you, and no peeking this time.” He gave them nothing more, his grin to himself as they both stared in confusion for a moment before realizing Lance was heading for the master bathroom, gift bag still in hand.

In retrospect, maybe Lance should have forgone sexy and mysterious because he was currently staring at this _thing_ in his hands that looked far less complicated on the mannequin in-store. Maybe it would have been sort of hot if Shiro helped him into it, and Keith could have done up all the straps but it was too late for that now, he’d ruin the mood if he popped out of the bathroom nude or worse, wearing the thing backwards or something.

Determination and blind faith were his go-to’s, and also fast google searches on his phone. In a mere matter of ten minutes, Lance was ninety percent sure he had everything set right, staring at his form in the mirror and holding up the stock image of a badly photoshopped female body displaying the same design in a different color. It looked right enough and he wagered neither of them would be picky on the details considering his _assets_ in this ensemble anyway.

Lance swung open the bathroom door with a flourish, hands flipped and gesturing to his long, lace-adorned torso, nothing else covering his skin besides the strategically placed straps of the one-piece.

“I’m here, you Valentine’s Day present!” And he was halfway to shooting finger guns at the bed when he caught them.

Neither of his boyfriends had retained their shirts and it was very obvious, at least from this view, that _someone’s_ hand had been in someone else’s pants, or at least had started to explore that region. Shiro was tilted towards Keith, one strong hand gripping under his chin but he was staring at Lance, having broken off from their kiss due to the commotion at the front of the room. Keith, that asshole, wasn’t even looking, instead still waiting for Shiro to continue to press urgent kisses to his skin.

“Aw, come on! You started without me? You said this was special for _me_!” Lance fake pouted, crossing his arms over his chest and staring directly at Keith until it somehow summoned they other into looking at him.

“Just getting warmed up for the main event.” And Lance had absolutely nothing ready to reply to that, instead letting his arms fall as his gaze did, taking in the smooth pale plane of Keith’s chest and the unruly way his hair was falling against his shoulders. It was unfair he could do that over and over, just distract Lance right out of an argument. It happened more times than he’d like to admit.

Shiro cleared his throat, his grasp on Keith sliding off as he positioned himself properly, making an open spot on the bed between them. Somehow, out of their trio, he could sometimes be the shyest, despite all of the filthy things both Lance and Keith knew he was capable of.

“Lance, you look…” And _that_ he could work with, a smile cracking as he twirled slowly in place, making sure to take extra time displaying his backside. Rendering Shiro speechless was a highly specialized skill, one Lance was better at than Keith and would hold it over his head for as long as he could.

For being such a complicated thing to put on, the actual design and function of his lingerie was fairly simple. Made of entirely stretch lace and straps, the pink fabric clung just tight enough to all the right places, accentuating curves and smoothing over other parts. It was like a puzzled one-piece bathing suit, cute upper half which covered his chest and strapped over each shoulder, matching bottom that had a curved edge creasing his ass at a dangerous height. It connected together in the middle, straps crisscrossing over Lance’s stomach and back, displaying diamond cutouts of skin between.

“Stunning? Alluring? Like I put the store mannequin to shame? Yes, I know.” Only some of that was fake-it-til-you-make-it talking because despite how Lance knew he looked to his boyfriends, he often questioned his own attractiveness to himself, always the hardest critic. Not that he couldn’t read the room; Keith had moved from his spot, crawling up to the edge of their bed and crooking his finger for Lance to follow.

“Come’re, don’t you want to collect the rest of your present? Shiro’s fault we’re half-naked, he’s too excited about your outfit.”

An exasperated grunt came from the other end of the bed, forcing Lance to tsk as he made his way to Keith, slow and deliberate in the way he let his hips sway. Keith reached out to grab at him but Lance was faster, catching him by his wrist and pulling a surprised sound from his mouth. With no warning Lance dragged the captured arm towards himself, pushing Keith’s palm and fingers against the soft lace before pulling it up to his lips. He made sure to stare right at Shiro as he took a finger into his mouth, sucking lewdly with intention, knowing well what said actions would do to his target audience.

And like clockwork they both fell; Shiro palming at his pants in a poor attempt to make it seem like he was simply adjusting himself, Keith actually whispering an unsteady “fuck” as Lance made a show of deepthroating his finger until he was content with each of their displays. They earned a little torture after the great ruse they’d crafted to keep this night a secret.

He popped the finger from his lips, free hand ghosting along Keith’s jaw until he was able to grasp it an force the attention he wanted.

“And what am I collecting? Is the rest a secret too?” Confidence now, with a hint of familiar tease as he met Keith’s gaze with a raised eyebrow.

“Anything you want. Whatever you wish tonight.” And it was Shiro answering, voice low and inviting, looking like he was struggling to keep himself in place at the head of the bed but almost certain Lance would fuss at him if he tried to move.

“Anything, you say? So, I could ask you both to get me off until I’m content, and leave you completely untouched?” Lance was expecting frowns and backpedalling but instead, he got quick confirmations from both, Shiro looking determined and Keith like he always did: ready to pounce the second Lance signaled.

He was mostly joking, not at all prepared to get yeses and certainly not that fast. They were serious about this; the whole night for Lance, whatever he wanted, however he wanted it. Just for a moment, he faltered in his bravado, fingers dipping into the hair near Keith’s ear gently, his soft gaze flickering between the two of them and surely giving away how he was feeling.

“Man, really trying to get in good after denying my hundred dollar a plate restaurant suggestion, huh?” And just like that it was gone, replaced with his go-to humor and cocky resolve.

He caught Keith’s eye roll but let it go, dropping his hand in favor of gripping the top of the bedpost and hefting himself over the edge in the most unsexy way he could manage, belly flopping between his boyfriends. Lance wiggled his ass a few times, counting the seconds until he felt Keith’s hand crawl up his thigh to squeeze.

“Nuh uh, didn’t even ask loverboy. I’m calling the shots tonight.” He swatted Keith’s palm away, rolling over and making a show of stretching out atop the comforter, vague idea of how inciting someone would look in such an outfit spread across matching pink flower petals.

They were both hovering, waiting impatiently for direction from him and it was almost worth it to extend the time just because of that. More often than not Lance gave over the reigns to Shiro or Keith, sometimes both at the same time. He was more than pleased to be sandwiched between them, pulled around and commanded to use his mouth in a better, more productive way. All in fairness and consent of course; he loved it, fed off the supreme pleasure of knowing he was doing a good job, making them feel good, gathering praise like each was a precious, hidden shiny piece of sea glass.

Right now, this was all indulgence, one that was out of routine and frankly, Lance was stalling right now because he couldn’t decide what to ask for. What could he have that they hadn’t already given him in this very bed?

A quiet, near indetectable whine came from above his head and Lance craned his neck to look, chuckling to himself as he caught Shiro’s hand hovering halfway in a struggle to not touch even though it was obvious he wanted to. Keith was fairing better but not by much, his face scrunched into a frown as he tried not to stare, as if looking at Lance’s lace-clad form would cause him to lose his cool. He decided to throw them a lifeline; he knew now exactly what he’d like to collect.

“Keith, get the lube and come right back to where you are- I want you to finger me while Shiro here, Shiro gets to suck me off.” It was delivered nonchalant, like Lance was reading the first sentence from a recipe of five star baked chicken.

Tonight seemed to be full of surprises. Lance expected something, if not protest then at least a reaction he might have to soothe over until he got what he wanted. But no, instead Keith stayed there, still for the quick movement of his hand shooting up to catch the small sailing bottle that Shiro chucked at him. Lance startled at the soft smack it made against palm, confused for a second before he realized just what happened. He peered back over the lumps of blanket and was met with the widest grin.

“What? We told you, tonight’s special- we’re fully prepared.” And before Lance could reply Shiro was moving, crawling the short distance to situate himself on his boyfriend's side while Keith moved to do the same lower, mirroring Shiro in posture and grin.

“What’s wrong, baby? Awful quiet for someone who was so demanding a second ago.” Keith ran his fingertips across a naked thigh, this time Lance not willing to swat away the touch.

Foiled again, he made it as far as opening his mouth to jab back at Keith’s stupid tease only to be met with Shiro’s lips, gentle and reassuring but firm enough that Lance’s shoulders sank, tension draining out of him he wasn’t even aware of.

Shiro was always good for that; grounding and solid and just someone you could hold on to and pretend nothing else mattered. He demanded attention, but never in a commanding way, tricking your body into wanting to give anything and everything it could to him. Lance was never one to fight this, reveling in the feeling of just being for Shiro and now was no exception even with the knowledge that they would both fulfill his request tonight.

So he didn’t push back, nor did he reprimand them for touching before he said it was time. Such specifics didn’t matter at all when the end goal of pleasure was the same, chasing the delicious feeling of being at the center of attention, not at all rare between the three of them but it was never as spotlighted as it was right now.

That's exactly how Lance felt as he kissed back, licked against Shiro’s lips in a light tease before parting his own and letting Shiro take the reigns. Distantly he heard the sound of bottle cap popping, felt fingers explore over the tight lace, tracing the patterns with no hurry. He felt the bed dip, Keith shuffling closer, Shiro’s free hand pressing down over his chest, lazily exploring the feeling of new fabric across known skin. Their fingers met once, right below Lance’s bellybutton and somehow it was _that_ which caused him to struggle, his own palm sliding on top of his boyfriend’s as he broke away from Shiro stealing away all his air.

“This is romantic and all but, if someone doesn’t touch my ass and/or dick soon I’m gonna have to leave a scathing review on this store’s page. Outfit was nice but my boyfriends just sat there and touched it all night instead of me,” Lance huffed, wiggling his torso as best he could and earning a feisty nip on his bottom lip and an exasperated sigh from the foot of the bed.

“What, you got somewhere to go, princess? Another date we don’t know about?” Keith slid his hand out from where all three were locked and held the bottle high with his other, making a show of letting the lube drip through the air to plop down on his fingers. At the same time, Shiro dipped lower, running the back of his hand across a lace-covered constricted cock, a laugh pressed against trapped lips as Lance writhed under their gazes.

“N-no, I just… shit, I just really want that pizza later, soon. It’s all I could think about all day and _fuck_ , Keith! That’s fucking cold, what did I tell you about warming the…” Lance stopped, whatever he wanted to say suddenly lost because without warning, the light mood they’d been sharing switched to something deeper.

Later, while sharing said pizza, Lance would deny the fact that he made the first overly embarrassing sound as Keith, that asshole, pressed a cold lubed finger into a different asshole. They’d bicker about it, how after years together one could expect that mean tricks like that shouldn’t happen any longer. Shiro would chastise them both, quoting the time Lance _insisted_ they’d try mixing whipped cream and nudity together and the time Keith swore over and over that he could handle shower sex with three but everyone ended up with bruises that weekend.

But right now, _right here_ , Lance did make an embarrassing sound, not just due to Keith but also because three seconds later Shiro decided to lean down, slide elastic and lace aside, and take every inch of Lance’s cock in one go.

He jolted, hips shifting off the mattress but Shiro was ready for him, a steady hand pressing them back down and the other reaching to grab each wrist of Lance’s and tug them up together just above his head. He squirmed again, a pleasant thrum of hot flush spreading across his chest as he felt Keith pick up his pace, each drag of his finger catching slightly on the elastic edge where he’d nudged away the fabric just enough to gain the access he needed.

“That’s,... that’s not fair! You gotta warn a guy when, shit, I…” Shiro was doing _something_ with his tongue now that honestly felt illegal from Lance’s point of view and that fucker knew because he was staring right at Lance as he did it.

“You hate to shut up, don’t you? Be a good boy or else I won’t let Shiro get you that awful Hawaiian pizza. I thought people ordered that as a joke, shit’s gross,” Keith said all this with an air of nonchalance, his body movements in direct contrast as he pulled completely out before sliding a second finger against the original and stretched Lance wider.

Lance _did_ have a comeback, one he’d repeated a few times in his life specifically defending the honor of said pizza choice, but it died in his mouth before he could grace his boyfriends with his argument.

“Hah-Hawaiian pizza is...fuck, right there, please…” Shiro hummed at just the right moment, lips stretching lewdly around Lance’s cock as Keith pressed his two fingers in as deep as he knew his boyfriend liked.

Fingers clenched desperately, nails biting against Shiro’s skin as Lance instinctively tried to escape, tried uselessly to clamp a hand around his own mouth. He liked to talk big game about his stamina, his control and focus but if anyone else were watching him tonight they’d probably coin him as someone that’s never been blown or fingered before. Certainly not at the same time. The reality of it was that he had, many times before, but maybe not in tight pink lace and draped over flower petals and soft white lights cascading over his tightly wound body.

Lance wasn’t mad they hid this plan for so long anymore. No, he was mad that he was falling apart so quickly, mad that any time he tried to rock his hips to meet Keith’s fingers he was pressed down to the bed. Mad that Shiro’s nose was pressing against his skin and he was sucking him off so efficiently that Lance was having trouble with his mental math; it had to be at least five minutes since they’d started, right?

Shiro only laughed when Lance struggled against him, his mouth free for a moment as he stared down at the lap before him before trailing a finger against the slick, hot wetness he’d created.

“What’s wrong, baby? This is what you wanted, aren’t you having fun?” Shiro knew damn well what Lance was feeling but his light teasing paired with how rough his voice sounded only pulled a pitiful whine from his boyfriend.

“I can’t. I can’t with you both, ahh- it’s too. I’m not gonna….hhhn.” Lance arched, eyebrows drawn into a frown as Keith pulled out in his normal rhythm but the return push in never came.

“Oh? Did you want us to stop? I mean, I’m pretty hungry anyway so…” If Keith had been a fraction slower he would have caught Lance’s heel hard high up on his thigh but he was too quick for someone with delayed action due to the threat of orgasm.

He gripped tightly against Lance’s ankle, pulling his leg up so it hovered awkwardly in the air before shoving his fingers back in, smirk plastered on his face as Lance let out a distressed shout. His body didn’t bother rejecting the rough feeling, instead bearing down on the slow pumping fingers and attempt short, needy thrusts of his hips to entice Shiro back down where he belonged.

“Shut up, Keith. Just...shut, fuck, shut up. Yeah, there... right there, faster. More. If you stop again I swear I ahh, swear I’ll spit on your pizza.” Lance tried to glare down the expanse of his own body, to make sure on his promise but he was met with a cocky smile and a knowing expression.

“Uh huh. Maybe I’ll let you spit on something else later. Now be good and give us what we want.” Keith leaned in, planting a rather sweet kiss to the inside of Lance’s thigh that was in complete contrast to the harsh way he was moving his fingers in and out of his boyfriend.

Shiro admired his work for a bit longer, hand lazily stroking Lance off as he watched Keith dismantle him in a way that only he could. It wasn’t that Lance never asked Shiro to give it rough, but it was something specific about Keith, some weird back and forth they always indulged in that lead to a different dynamic than what Shiro and Lance shared. Apparently, it was what he craved, his simple initiation and invitation for Keith to settle in and this was the result.

He needed that abrasiveness with Keith now, but he wanted gentle with Shiro. Lance didn’t attempt to buck up into his mouth when he returned to his job, nor did he fight hard against his trapped wrists like he often would when wanting to rile the other up. It was sweet in a way; the combination falling into an easy place, something they each had comfort in.

The room soon echoed Lance’s failed attempts to stay quiet, his moans and half-sobs loud in comparison to how relatively quiet Keith and Shiro were. Keith switched from long strokes to shorter, harder ones, his fingers curling just how he knew Lance wanted. Shiro mirrored his pace, his attention aimed on the sensitive tip, tongue pressing along the underside and doubling his efforts any time Lance’s breath hitched. Both sets of eyes were on him now but Lance wouldn’t be able to tell as his own were closed tight, trying desperately to last just a little longer, fighting a losing battle as he felt a tremble build steadily along his thighs.

No warning came but none was really needed for someone like Lance. They’d watched him intently, the tense of his shoulders and stomach, his fingers stretching and curling uselessly above his head; all telltale signs of Lance falling apart and confirmed easily with the near painful low moan that escaped as both Shiro and Keith worked together to push him over the edge. His hips stuttered as Keith slowed his movements, as Shiro sucked and licked until there was nothing left for Lance to give him.

With one last deep exhale, Lance slumped against the mattress, his lazy, content smile well worth the month-long secret planning.

“Thanks. Pizza time. I’ll be right here while you guys go do that.” He was rewarded with a swift smack to his thigh by Keith, the sound more painful than the actual impact as Shiro released his wrists and ruffled his hair lovingly.

“You think you get two rewards in a row? Shiro, is that how this works?” Keith made his way up Lance’s body, playfully plucking at a pink elastic strap and smirking when his boyfriend hissed at the sting. He sandwiched his body to Lances side, watching as Shiro slid into the space opposite, taking Lance’s chin in his hand and tilting it toward him. 

“Well, he _did_ behave but, I had another thing in mind before dinner, we have plenty of time, you know the place stays open late, don’t you, baby?” Before Lance could offer a snarky reply Shiro made his move, coaxing him to press back, to let Shiro slide between his lips.

Keith took the opportunity he was given, the long arch of Lance’s smooth neck perfect for attacking with how Shiro had him angled. He pressed his lips there, trailing slowly and quickly growing more impatient, his stride faster than the languid one Shiro preferred to torture Lance with. He made sure to be messy about it, licking a thick stripe up the column of skin and pressing his teeth into the delicate lobe there, earning a whine and pulling Lance’s attention away from Shiro.

Lance let out a half-hearted growl, turning to try to playfully bite Keith back but the other was ready for him and sank his free hand into half-damp strands, tugging lightly and grinning as Lance fell compliant, all the fight sapped out of him from his boyfriends.

Shiro reached over to the nightstand, dragging something from its top and admiring both of them, knowing Keith was near his limit for containing himself. Pressing the home button he dialed their favorite pizza place, throwing his leg over Lance’s and effectively locking him in place.

“I’m sure we can find some way to pass the time until the food comes. Keith, why don’t you keep Lance occupied while I- yes, hello! I’d like to place an order for delivery.”

At least Keith had the forethought to cover Lance’s mouth with his palm, muffling the sound of his shout as he slung himself over pink lace, tugged his pants halfway down his legs, and ground down hard, rocking his hips and staring down at himself as he watched his cock slip against the best present he’d ever gotten on this day.

“-and one large Hawaiian and that’s it! Thanks.” Shiro threw his phone somewhere behind him on the bed, grabbing Keith’s palm over Lance’s mouth and letting his sounds escape.

“Thirty minutes, I bet we can make him come again.” He smiled at the shocked look on Lance’s face and Keith simply laughed.

“I’ll bet on that. If we can’t, then he can answer the door like this. Pizza guy will probably give us our food for free.”


End file.
